Over Simchat Torah, I heard it more times than I could count.
“We can finally dance again.”
“It’s over.”
“How good it feels to breathe again.”
And I get it. After everything we’ve lived through - the pain, the uncertainty, the sleepless nights waiting for names, for faces, for any sign of life, who wouldn’t want to believe that this nightmare is finally behind us?
But let’s be clear: it’s not over.
Yes, of course we celebrate every life brought home. Every embrace. Every family reunited after two years of unimaginable hell. But celebration can’t replace vigilance. Because while some may call this closure, the truth is, closure only comes when every hostage is home, and when Hamas, the evil that tore through our nation, no longer exists to threaten our children or grandchildren, ever again.
Anything less isn’t an ending. It’s a pause.
There’s a reason the Torah commands us not just to fight Amalek, but to wipe them out entirely. It’s a hard Mitzvah to comprehend until you understand the nature of evil and see it for yourself.
Evil doesn’t vanish when you beat it. It hides. It waits. It returns.
King Saul made that mistake. He spared Agag, the king of Amalek. A single act of compassion that, on the surface, seemed noble. But from that one decision came Haman, the architect of another attempted genocide against our people centuries later.
When you leave evil breathing, you don’t preserve morality. You postpone tragedy.
So yes, we won this round. Israel stood tall. We reminded the world and ourselves that we are a people who refuse to break. But true victory isn’t about surviving the attack. It’s about ensuring it can never happen again.
And as long as even one of our hostages remains in enemy hands or one remnant of Hamas remains in power our victory is incomplete and our dance, unfinished.
So dance, yes.
Celebrate life.
Feel the relief.
But don’t mistake this pause for peace.
Because the moment we declare the war over before the work is done, Amalek slowly starts to breathe again.
And this time, we cannot let that happen.
We have to learn from the mistakes of our ancestors. To finish what they could not, to complete what they began. So that one day, we will truly dance again.
Not in relief. But in redemption.
In the rebuilt Jerusalem. In the Third Temple.
With no more pauses, only true and lasting peace.
Best Wishes for a Blessed Day,